


O Divine Poesy

by voleuse



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: Make the tale live for us in all its many bearings.Queens and kings seldom share their hearts--to glimpse them is serendipitous.
Relationships: Attolia | Irene/Eugenides, Eddis | Helen/Sophos
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	O Divine Poesy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madwriteson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madwriteson/gifts).



> Set during the times of _Return of the Thief_.

**_i. Thalia, the cheerful one_**  
In times of peace, there was no greater delight than watching Sounis, Eddis, and Attolia torment their annux with their love. Known for his deadly wit and wry observance, the king was nonplussed at any gesture uncouched in sarcasm.

One morning, he entered the breakfast room to find everything in a state of reluctant tension. The servants hovered around the table, wide-eyed, while Attolia and Eddis stared at him expectantly. "What," the king asked, "is going on?"

At that, Sounis entered the room with a aplomb, trailed by two servers, a food-taster, and a cook, all with hands atwitch. Sounis himself was bearing a large platter in his arms. Upon it were a heap of...somethings, though they bore some resemblance to food.

"What," the king said again, "is going on?"

Sounis slid the platter on the table, in front of the seat that was the king's own. "I made breakfast," he said with pride. "Your favorite sweetrolls, in fact."

The king blinked. "What?"

Sounis sat next to Eddis, who seemed to be stifling laughter. "Helen was telling me about these last night--she said they were your favorite when you were children."

"I wasn't familiar with the dish," said Attolia. As always, remained composed, though her eyes sparkled. "Nor was the kitchen."

"It sounded simple enough," Sounis said. He nodded over at the taster. "And it has been proven to be appropriate for your majesty."

The king looked at the taster, who cleared his throat as he nodded.

"Well," Sounis said. He seemed at least a decade younger as he looked at the king. "Go on!"

The king looked at Attolia, at Eddis, at the taster, at the cook. Then he looked at Sounis. "I suspect I'm going to regret this."

Reluctantly, he picked up a roll.

**_ii. Calliope, the one with the beautiful voice_**  
Eddis found her husband in the library. Surrounded by scrolls, as well as a heap of cheap parchment, he seemed not to notice her entrance, though he could not disguise his smile.

"I miss this the most, I think," he said as she settled next to him. "The magus always said I would have made a fine scholar."

Eddis brushed her fingers against the texts, noting the changes of ink, of calligraphy, from one to another. "You're translating?"

"Something like that," he said. "Kamet shared some of poetry he had translated for Costis. I wanted to see if I could translate one of our poetry into Mede."

Eddis touched his forehead lightly. He had smeared ink there; it was still fresh. 

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. Then he looked at the scribblings before him. "It's silly, isn't it?"

She shook her head and began to shift the parchment around. "How can I help?

**_iii. Melpomene, she who sings_**  
Irene had woken earlier than usual. Eugenides had stirred when she left the bed, but she stroked a hand against his cheek and told him to go back to sleep.

He lay in a quiet doze, enjoying the fall on sunlight onto his skin, the plush give of his pillow. His mind was idle for a short while, until something clicked for him. He dressed rapidly and exited the bedroom through one of the windows, making his way across the palace via rooftop.

He found her in the royal cemetery, kneeling in front of a small memorial. "Irene." He eased down to sit next to her, and she leaned against his shoulder.

"Sometimes," she whispered, "I wonder what they would have been like, if--"

"I know," he said. And in silence, they mourned.

**_iv. Polyhymnia, she of the many hymns_**  
Attolia did not worship at any altar, but she knew to honor the gods, regardless. She visited temples on the appropriate days and made offerings as was traditional. With one exception.

It was noticed, though no comment was made, that the only god she shirked was Moira.

**_v. Euterpe, she who pleases_**  
Relius, after his return, underwent a long convalescence. He never lacked for company--Teleus most often, of course, but many others stopping by to exchange stories. One evening, however, he found himself alone. It did not bother him; there was always something to read, after all.

He was deep into an only slightly outdated report from an old spy in Pent when a quiet rustle distracted him. He looked up from the scroll.

It was Attolia.

"My queen," he said. Though he could not stand easily, Relius sat taller and indicated a bow. "You honor me."

She ventured into the room. "You are well?" At his gesture, she sat in a chair across from his couch. 

"Indeed," he said. "I am stronger, at least."

Their conversation was light, though she did share her thoughts on some matters of state. Nothing of import, it sounded like, but Relius could still offer commentary, if not advice.

At one point, Attolia's gaze fell upon the lyre propped against his couch. 

"Oh," he said as he noticed. "I was teaching a song to Pheris. He is kind to play, since I cannot." Though reluctant to bring the reminder, Relius couldn't help glancing down at his hands, crooked and aching.

Attolia watched him for a moment, then bent forward, catching up the lyre in her arms. She strummed a chord with some concentration before looking up, unusually abashed. "It has been several years since I learned to play."

"My queen," Relius responded. "Of course I would not--"

"Hush, Relius," she said. And then the queen of Attolia played for Relius a song.

**_vi. Terpsichore, the one delighting in dance_**  
Though Eugenides was quite able, he did find it difficult to teach Eugenia the knife dance with one hand absent. He could manage much of it, of course--he'd grown quite deft with the hook--but there was always a slight syncopation to disrupt.

Then one day, as he and his daughter went through the steps, a third joined them.

Not many learned dance from the god himself, but even Eugenia knew not to brag.

**_vii. Erato, the lovely one_**  
It was an official state visit to Eddis and, as such, the annux and Attolia had been provided quarters overdone in resplendence. So Irene wasn't surprised when Eugenides woke her in the middle of the night to sneak out. (Irene had made sure to bring slippers with a custom tread. She trusted her husband would never let her fall during one of these rooftop forays, but she had always trusted her forethought more than she had a god's luck.)

"With any luck," Eugenides said as he swung down to a balcony, "they won't have given the rooms to some upstart."

Irene enjoyed the circle of his arms as he caught her. "Rooms?"

They entered into a small library, the desk covered with neat stacks of scrolls. He pulled her through the doorway beyond, into chambers that were spare, but elegant. "My old quarters," he explained.

"No sign of upstarts," she remarked. The furniture was polished and the floor clear of dust, but there were no other signs of habitation.

Instead of a verbal reply, Eugenides grasped her hips, pulled her against him. Caught in his kiss, Irene was almost surprised when her back met the wall. 

At her gasp, Eugenides drew back. "If I may?" he asked, his hand trailing up her back to the exact spot where he could tug her gown loose.

Irene raised her eyebrows; when was he ever so polite? He read her expression rightly and pressed his lips against her throat. 

There were a very few words after that.

In the morning, they were surprised when a knock at the door revealed Phresine. She sketched a bow that was almost ironic.

"The queen of Eddis asked me to tell you you're quite predictable, majesty." When Eugenides hid under the blankets, Phresine turned to Attolia. "My queen, will you breakfast here?"

"Deny Eddis the pleasure of her cousin's face?" Attolia smirked. She eased out of bed and pulled her slippers back on. She patted the lump of Attolis under the blankets. "Come, my king."

**_viii. Clio, the proclaimer_**  
Hector was, thankfully, still young enough to cuddle against his father's side while Eugenia showed off by doing handstands on the balcony railing.

"Don't let your mother catch you doing that," Eugenides told her, feeling both proud and terrified as she shifted to balance on just one hand. 

"Father?" Hector said, drawing Eugenides's attention back. They had been reading aloud a letter from the magus, who had lately been examining the medicinal properties of toads in western Sounis. Hector, however, was staring up at his father instead of the text.

Eugenides smiled. "Yes?"

"Will you..." Hector hesitated, then touched his fingers against the curve of Eugenides's hook. "Will you tell us about this?"

Eugenides blinked. Eugenia had returned to sit on the other side of him. She daintily took the letter from his hands, then examined his face. "You don't have to," she said with solemnity. She made eye contact with Hector; after a moment, he nodded agreement.

"Well." Eugenides ran two or three versions of the events through his mind, but couldn't settle on one. "I can tell you pieces of it," he finally said. "It's hard to understand."

The children drew closer to him as he, unusually, stumbled through the telling. 

When Irene returned from her a council meeting and joined them on the balcony, she was surprised when the three of them pulled her into a hug.

**_ix. Urania, the heavenly one_**  
They watched as their children chased each other across the lawn, their antics lit by moonlight and fireflies.

A new treaty with the Braelings was tied up in old resentments. Tremors were beginning to shake Eddis. The fields in Attolia were still struggling to recover from the floods of years before.

Thus was the nature of ruling kingdoms. But there was also this: An annux, two queens, and a king broke bread as they watched the future tumbling through the garden before them.

**Author's Note:**

> Summary taken from [a translation of _The Odyssey_](http://www.telstudies.org/writings/works/the_odyssey/invocation.shtml) by TE Lawrence.
> 
> The sections are arranged according to [the nine muses](https://www.greekmythology.com/Other_Gods/The_Muses/the_muses.html).


End file.
